


Made in Heaven

by soongtypeprincess



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Funny, Heaven is party and everyone is gay, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Inspired By Tumblr, Light Angst, M/M, Married Couple, Tumblr Prompt, crying about Queen, dead celebrities, even God, it was an HC sent by an anon and it inspired me, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 04:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21229991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soongtypeprincess/pseuds/soongtypeprincess
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale talk about the day Freddie Mercury died.One wonders where he ended up...the other thinks they can find out.





	Made in Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a head canon a follower on Tumblr shared with me and I just ran with it. Enjoy!

"It would have beena treat to see Freddie really give it to old Gabe, ya know?" Crowley said. "Just smart off to him, take a shot of vodka, give him the finger while smiling and calling him ‘darling.’ Someone’s sake…”

“I remember the day he died,” Aziraphale told him, pouring them another glass of wine. “I had never seen you so depressed.”

“Then again,” Crowley continues, putting his hand on his husband’s leg after he sits next to him, “I would have loved to have seen the look on everyone’s face if Freddie came over to Hell. Walking through the fiery gates in those tight white pants and huge crown and fur-lined cape. He _would_ declare himself Queen of the Underworld, right to Beelz’s face, too! HA!”

“You cried all night, dear, I remember,” Aziraphale continues, too, a frown forming on his brow. “You played that one song on the turntable over and over, too, what was it again?”

“Oh…yeah it was uh…_Somebody to Love.”_

“Yes…”

“Yeah…It, um…reminded me of us…at that time.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale rested a hand on his. “Will you play it for me?”

“What?”

He motioned to the turntable he kept on one of the bookshelves. “Put it on. I’d like to hear it.”

Crowley hesitated, but then squeezed his husband’s hand before getting up from the sofa.

He put the record on and sat next to him again. Aziraphale smiled and kissed his cheek, tears standing in his eyes as he listened. 

“Darling…”

“Sappy, I know,” Crowley grinned, picking up his wine glass again.

“No! It’s a beautiful song! And, you know, I think I can…”

Crowley looked at him, puzzled. “You think you can what?”

Aziraphale set down his wine. “Dearest…what if I can find out for you?”

“Find out what?” He saw the slight raise of his husband’s eyebrow and it clicked. “You…y-you mean if Freddie–”

“Yes! I mean…I may not work for them anymore, but I can still get in and out of Heaven, and since our ‘trials,’ Gabriel and Sandalphon don’t dare to ask questions.”

Crowley grinned. “They’re scared of you.”

Aziraphale smirked. “Hmm, I wonder why.”

They giggled and the angel suddenly stood.

“You’re going _now?”_ Crowley asked.

“Why not?”

“Well, I mean…what are you going to say?”

Aziraphale was by the turntable now, sifting through the records on the shelf below it. “What’s your favorite vinyl from him?”

“Uh…A Day at the Races. I placed it just there to play the record.”

He picked up the sleeve and carefully put the record back into it. “Ah! Very well!” He hid it in his coat and went to the door. “Be right back.”

Crowley shot off the sofa. “Angel! Wait! Are you really going back _now? _You think you’ll be able to get up there, I mean, the building is one thing, but you haven’t been up past the stars in eons! And you’re drunk!”

“Oh, pish posh, dear!”

“Don’t pish posh me! You can’t just–”

Aziraphale stopped his protests with a kiss. “Be back in the morning.”

“_Morning?!”_

“Love you!”

——————

The next morning passed…and then the afternoon. Early evening came and Crowley paced the entirety of the bookshop. He had finally decided to go out to look for him until he heard the familiar sound of the bell above the door.

“Angel?”

He rushed to him and saw that he was smiling from ear to ear, purple lipstick marks on both of his cheeks. A rainbow feathered boa was draped over his shoulders and he was clutching the vinyl record in one hand and an open bottle of champagne in the other.

“Darling!” he said. “I am dreadfully sorry that I kept you waiting for so long, but…well, what a time it was up there!”

“In the…headquarters?”

“Hm? Oh, Lord no! Upstairs, dear. _Way_ upstairs! It’s definitely livened up since we left.”

Crowley stepped closer and squinted. “Is that glitter?”

“Oh! Yes,” Aziraphale said. “Just a bit; it was everywhere.”

“Well did you–”

“I met this amazing young man, dear! He reminded me so much of you! Tall, thin, long legs, gorgeous hair, and absolutely enchanting eyes! And his makeup! He had a painted lightning bolt over his face and–”

“_You met David-fucking-Bowie??”_

“Dear! Language! Anyway, he was chatting with this other young man who had just finished setting his guitar on fire! Can you believe it? He set fire in Heaven! It was amazing!”

Crowley’s heart was pounding. “Jimi…Jimi Hendrix? You met–”

“Darling, stop interrupting me! Then I turn around and there’s this shorter bloke clad in a puffy white shirt and a purple coat! He looked regal and was very charming! He was making pancakes for everyone!”

“Was he wearing a weird symbol?”

“Why, yes! Come to think of it he was!”

“That was Prince!! Angel, you’re–look, did you find–”

“Oh! And I saw my old friend, Julia Child! Do you remember? I had dinner with her and her wonderful husband when I was in France in the 1970s. She was there with her husband and this other tall gentleman from the American South. Oh, darling, he was absolutely gorgeous! Slicked back black hair, deep blue eyes, tight white flares! Oh, my heavens, you know I don’t sweat very much but–”

“Aziraphale!”

The angel paused and frowned at him. “What? Oh! Right, yes. Here.”

He handed the Queen album to him and Crowley’s jaw dropped.

In glittering gold, over the black cover of the album, was the very signature of Freddie Mercury himself.

“I told him that my husband is a big fan,” Aziraphale said. He approached him and kissed him ever so gently.

“Oh…angel…” Crowley’s voice cracked. “Thank you…I can’t believe it…how was he?”

“Happy. He was there with his partner, Jim. He misses his mates, but he knows they’ll be there one day. But really, he’s alright, and having the best time.”

Crowley sniffed back growing tears. “Did he meet…you know…”

“Gabriel? Oh…I don’t know…I forgot to ask. They met God, though.”

Crowley’s eyes grew wider. “They did?”

“Of course! She’s a fan of his, too, apparently.” He took off his feathered boa and placed it around Crowley’s neck. “How about I freshen up and we dine at the Ritz? I’ll tell you more about my trip.”

Crowley kissed him. “Thank you again, angel.”

“No problem, love.” He walked to the back room to go up to his flat, but suddenly turned. 

“Oh! She says hello, by the way.”

Crowley was puzzled again. “Who?”

Aziraphale laughed. “God, of course! She congratulated us on the marriage! She saw the whole thing, you know?”

“_Wait…__what?_”


End file.
